


Requiem

by Megalohdon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Based off art by NICHOLASonICE on Twitter, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Murder, Self-Acceptance, Self-Reflection, angel au, just a small drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megalohdon/pseuds/Megalohdon
Summary: Yuuri died today.He had worked so, so hard to be important.To be somebody.A pity, it was, that he went out this way.





	Requiem

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crowtective](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowtective/gifts).



Yuuri died today.

                It wasn’t something that would go down in the history books, wasn’t an event that found itself etched into the pages of tomes of worship. His death, a quiet thing it came to be, wasn’t special. It was an assassination from the shadows, a quick succession of evil that pierced his chest through his back, wedged between the solid bone bars of his ribs that held his heart captive and gave his lungs a home. His chest was where life flourished, where the spirit he nursed into a healthy glow fought to stand out.

                He had worked so, _so_ hard to be important.

                To be _somebody._

But his knees quaked with the impact of the arrows, dragging him down, grounding him. _Dying_ , he thought, _was just another way of failing._ But that was okay, he had told himself, trembling hands reaching up to the sharpened tip of the arrow that had claimed him, because he _was_ a failure after all. _Well made, professional, and crafted for the sole purpose of killing my kind._

                A pity, it was, that he went out this way.

                The image of the blood pooling under his knees was lost in the fog of his fear, the only thing he could bring himself to focus on was just how _cold_ he was. _That’s_ why he was trembling, of course, it wasn’t the pain. Death was a notoriously cold thing, lacking the warmth that love and life gave any living creature, keeping to the shadows under beds and the fears that fermented themselves in nightmares.

                Death was not an unheard of concept, not even to an angel.

                He stretched a wing out, reaching forward with a shaking plea to the shadows that had hunted him. It wasn’t worth the fight, he knew that, but he had to try. Today, Yuuri Katsuki, a holy servant under The Lord, would die, but he wouldn’t ever stop fighting.

                Viktor had taught him that.

                _“Don’t you ever, **ever** give up, my Yuuri.”_

                And he wouldn’t. He had promised himself that much, promised Viktor with shared breaths and hushed whispers, fleeting touches and curled fingers. It was an unspoken request between the two of them that, should they ever find themselves in a situation where their lives were to ever be in danger, the least they could give each other was a fight.

                Because he didn’t _want_ to die, especially not now.

                He had been assigned a mortal, finally. Someone out in the mortal plane had needed divine intervention, something Yuuri could help with. He could do this, he could give them the hope they prayed for, the strength they needed. He would guide them to be a better them, watch and make sure their prayers saw life.

                _I was going to be useful._

An ache in his spine had him sputtering, right hand shifting from the arrow head that dripped his essence of life to the bit of chest that rested between the twin arrows that had struck him. He found himself laughing, an ugly bark of a thing, at the idea that holding a hand over his heart would somehow fix this; that, somehow, clutching his heart through flesh, bone, and muscle was enough to keep him alive. If it weren’t for the loss of blood he’d wager a guess that his heartbeat would be erratic.

_It should be. This is the most exciting thing I have ever lived to experience._

_My own death._

                His wings unfolded from his sides, splaying out fully behind him so he could lower himself down onto his right side; it was more comfortable to die this way, he had read. It was better to die when you felt like you were falling asleep.

                _”It’s just like falling asleep. Please don’t be afraid, darling.”_

                “I’m not afraid, I’m not.”

                Maybe it was a lie, something he told himself to keep calm, but he had to let his free wing drape over himself to keep warm because he was _so_ cold. He was cold, but that was okay. It was easier to be calm when he could focus on the chill, the way it bit through his nerves and steeled his bones. He could only curl in on himself, blood smearing with the movement of his legs, but it was enough of an effort to show he tried.

                But he didn’t _feel_ the pain.

                And that was okay.

                It was okay, because a part of him, a repressed an anxious corner of his person that he persistently neglected, could feel the warm embrace of _Viktor_ , and he could almost smell the other man, that sweet honeysuckle infused tangerine that he remembered so fondly. It reminded him of nights curled up, limbs entangled and fingers dancing along the ridges of each other’s spines as they mapped out the curves and waves of their bodies, memorized the patterns in which breaths fell like gentle like snow in winter, fell for the way their chests rumbled with laughter under the moonlight.

                How their voices caught in their throats and their nerves were set ablaze with each ghosting brush of their lips across bare skin.

                It was a reminder of love, and the journey of falling, and it was a reminder that, even in death, Yuuri was _never_ going to be alone.

                But Viktor would be, and that itself was a sobering thought; the image of Viktor, wrought with grief, fingers curled in silver tresses, lips parted by sharpened screams that _howled_ in the echoes of his loneliness. How cruel the world could be to this man he loved so, the one who saved him from himself. An angel who pulled a fledgling from the ground and taught him to fly.

                “I promise, Viktor, I’ll fly back home to you.”

                The gentle caress of his own voice against his eardrums was shocking, hearing just how _frail_ he had come to be was such a foreign experience. He was strong, had made himself strong with Viktor, by Viktor, _for_ Viktor.

                But most importantly for himself.

                So he closed his eyes, fingers unfurling from their clutches on his shirt, and willed himself to be better in his final moments, pleaded with his senses to stop _crying_ because it’d be okay.

                It’d be okay because he had learned how to simply **_be._**

                How to exist, and love, and become a pillar of support for those who needed him.

                Yuuri had learned how to be important. He treasured those memories, the reminders of how far he had come, and the wing that draped over him shook a bit with the last wave of energy he had before falling limp over his side.

                “I was stronger because of you,” he mouthed against the ground, voice a quiet breath reaching out into the nothingness hoping to find someone to listen, “and you’ll be stronger for me. I know you will be.

                “I love you Viktor,” he whispered.

                “I’m sorry.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is super, SUPER short, but it was only meant to be a drabble that was inspired by some [art](https://twitter.com/NICHOLASonICE/status/854315937301843968/photo/1) by [NICHOLASonICE](http://twitter.com/NICHOLASonICE/) over on Twitter. I can never resist some angst! And I have a soft spot for making Yuuri and Viktor hurt because I am some deranged human being who enjoys making characters suffer. (I equally love them getting happy endings too!)
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd, so if you see any spelling/grammar mistakes it's all on me! The flow is a bit 'eh', but this wasn't meant to be more than something that just got my creative juices flowing even if it isn't the most coherent thing.
> 
> And if you're looking for the update for Hopeless Wanderers, never fear! I am working on the next chapter now! Had a LOT going on the past few weeks (worked ten days in a row, y nephew was born, I got sick, dad went to Japan, the WORKS) so I had to take a small break, but I'll be getting back into the swing of things soon!
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter @ [Megalohdon](http://twitter.com/Megalohdon/) and Tumblr @ [Megalohdon](http://megalohdon.tumblr.com).


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